Monday, December 08, 2008

G. finally relented and agreed that my ability to breathe was more important than the smell of real pine tree and so we went shopping for an artificial tree.

We visited Lowe's and Target.

Me: Decides any of these 5 would be OK with me. I prefer dark green to the blue-green. Otherwise, I don't really care. 7 feet looks good. Am done.

G: Has to visit Home Depot, Sears and "Pool, Patios and More" to make sure he has a good sense of the full selection. Deems Frasier Fir too sparse after seeing it at eye level in Sears. Decides his favorite is the 9-foot Bavarian Spruce at Target. Measures the family room ceiling and finds it only 8.5 feet high. Has existential crisis about the perfect Christmas tree being the wrong size.

Me: mentions that the artificial tree I grew up with looked like crap until we put decorations on it, and then it was fine!

G: Knowing a little bit about my lack of attention to detail (I didn't notice he'd hung the Christmas lights on the house, despite arriving home after dark WITH the lights fully glowing), G. is not convinced.

We ended up with the 9-foot tree anyway, and it'll just bend a little at the top. I'm surprised he's OK with this and fully expect him to be trying to saw a couple of inches off the green metal "trunk" tomorrow.